


Little Lessons

by LadyAmina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Feel-good, Fluff, Hangover, Legal Guardian Sirius, M/M, Milestones, Morning After, New Relationship, Raising Harry, Teacher Remus, Trash AU, Tumblr Prompt, moving in, time stamps, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmina/pseuds/LadyAmina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Tumblr prompt: “hey we hooked up last night and it turns out you are my child's teacher”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson 1: Know Who You're Sleeping With

Remus woke to a pounding head and aching limbs. His whole body felt heavy. His mouth felt and tasted like he’d slept with a sock in it. Although his muscles were tingling in a way that made him feel very content, which was at odds with everything else about the moment. Sunlight was pouring in, too bright even against his closed eyelids. He scrunched his face and shifted uncomfortably, tangled in sheets. The mattress felt strange beneath him - not enough give. Before he had time to process that _this was not his mattress_ , something shifted next to him and he started.

His eyes shot open, which he immediately regretted. If the sunlight had been to sharp on his closed eyes, it was knives once they were open. He made a pained noise in his throat and whatever was next to him shifted again. It was warm. Then, quite all at once, it was hot. Someone else’s bare skin was pressing into his own. A leg moved on top of one of his; an arm threw itself over his chest. He was no longer tangled only in sheets.

In that moment he’d completely forgotten his hangover. Too deeply satisfied in the knowledge that there was absolutely nothing separating the pleasantly naked body next to him from his own equally unclothed one. He could not remember the previous night, but feelings were starting to come back. Little flashes of sensation and emotion. The smell of a pub; fingers laced through his own; the scent of someone completely new; that same scent, but cast over the entirety of a flat he didn’t know; then hands. Hands everywhere. His own on someone else’s hot, smooth skin and someone else’s on his own, more scarred and rough. And deep, profound satiation.

Yet still, all he knew about this stranger was that they smelled amazing and they felt amazing. And they were, in fact, quite warm. Well, that and - hips shifted against Remus’s thigh to press the leg between his more insistently so - definitely masculine in anatomy.

This was insane. He hadn’t done the waking-up-in-a-strange-place-with-a-strange-man (or strange anyone) thing for years. Not since just after university. In fact, he admitted to himself. He hadn’t done anything that involved waking up next to another person for too long. He supposed that with enough time, pressure and drink, this was bound to happen.

Bracing himself this time, he blinked his eyes open. They still hurt like all hell in the rays of the sun, but within a moment he was adjusted enough to start taking in the room around him. He was in a rather large bed in a rather small room. The offending window was to his right and it must have been facing east because the light was persisting even through the curtains. The furniture outside of the bed was sparse. A wardrobe to his left, what looked like a trunk at the foot of the bed and not much else. There were two doors to his left as well, and one more across the room.

A clock on the little wooden bedside table beside him told him it was just after six in the morning. He cursed under his breath. He had maybe an hour to get dressed, get out and get to work? He didn’t even know where he was. He could be six towns away from Hogwarts Elementary School for all he knew. And he’d be going in hung over regardless. Why had it seemed like a good idea to go soul-searching on a Sunday evening? There was one thing he was certain of, he would have to wake the warm, cozy stranger. He was not a sneak-out-while-you-were-sleeping sort of person. And anyway it would be much easier just to ask where he was rather than try to figure it out on his own.

He shifted beneath the other person, hoping it would coax them out of sleep. Their reaction, however, was to press the half-hard beginnings of a morning erection into Remus’s thigh. He bit the inside of his cheek, but there was no way to stop his own body from reacting to that. He shifted more deliberately this time, nearly sitting himself upright, and finally his companion moved.

There was a soft, sleepy moan and a practically graceful movement of body parts. The leg remained hooked over his but the arm shrank away from his chest, which felt comparatively cold without the extra body heat. The feather-light ends of a curtain of hair tickled his own arm. He looked down at long last. Dark hair. Long hair. Remus’s fingers tingled with the memory of the feel of it between them, silky.

“Ow,” A drowsy, low voice spoke at last from behind the curtain.

Remus grunted in agreement.

“Um, g’morning,” The other person said, tone full of uncertainty. About as much as he felt himself.

“Morning. Er,” He did sit up fully now, as the stranger. When the hair had been swept from their face, Remus’s eyes fell on sharp, undeniably beautiful features and grey eyes. It was a moment before he managed to breathe again. “Er, are you alright?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head before opening them again. _‘Are you alright’_ was probably not the smooth thing to say in this situation, was it?

The other person’s face broke into an amused smile and Remus was breathless all over again. “Yes, I am. Are you?”

Remus nodded, which was a mistake, as his throbbing head quickly reminded him. He winced. “I’m Remus, by the way,” He muttered, pressing the heal of his hand to his forehead.

“Yeah, I know. Do you remember last night at all?” The person asked.

Remus sighed and shook his head - very carefully - “Mostly, I do not.”

“Well, let’s try this again, then, shall we? I’m Sirius. Like the star, not like the state of being.”

Remus smiled. That statement fell from Sirius’s lips like he’d said it a million times before, but also it seemed very familiar to Remus. It had started with a stranger in a bar, saying just that. Vivid pictures of the previous evening flooded Remus so quickly it made his head sting again. This man - this Sirius - he’d met him at The Three Broomsticks already most of the way through his third whiskey. And from there…

Remus couldn’t quite gather the full night, but full moments in glorious technicolor bombarded him. Taking a cab back to this flat with Sirius, who appeared to be just as sloppily drunk as him by this time. Basically mauling him in the back seat. Oh, that poor driver. He remembered stumbling into bed and laughing a lot and kissing even more.

It was silent for a moment, but one could not call it an uncomfortable or awkward sort of quiet in any way. Sirius stretched like an animal across the bed, his legs still covered in white cotton sheets, while Remus… Well, while Remus watched. He found it difficult to do anything else while Sirius was bent over in a position so effortlessly deep it would make a yoga master green with envy, the muscles and bones of his back moving lithely beneath his bare skin.

“Work,” Remus blurted out after a long moment. “Sorry. I mean to say, I have work this morning. I - I hate to dash off so quickly, just…” He cursed himself. Remus prided himself on being a generally articulate person. Maybe he could blame the hangover for his sudden and complete disregard for the English language, but he thought it more likely that it might have something to do with how Sirius was finished stretching and had turned to look at him again.

“Oh,” He nodded, ”Right.” A shadow fell over his face and Remus found himself hastily clarifying.

“No, I mean that. I really don’t want to go. Really.” Sirius’s eyes were wide and almost pouting. He looked like a kicked puppy. “I - Can I see you again?”

Sirius snorted and the pout was replaced with an icy-cold blockade. “See me again? You told me last night you “never did this kind of thing”. You seemed genuine, I believed you.” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. Remus had to work to keep from fixating on the way his hair shifted as it moved. “I’m not someone you can just see whenever you want, I have bigger -”

“No!” Remus was very aware that there had been a miscommunication, though where it had occurred, he couldn’t quite figure out. “I don’t mean see, I mean see. I mean. Something that maybe involves a more talking and a little less drinking.”

The ice in Sirius’s eyes melted. What was Remus getting himself into?

“Sure. Sure, we could try something like that.” Sirius contemplated for a moment before scooting up on the bed to level himself with Remus, who could only watch in awe as the other man grew closer and closer, half of him still sheathed in linens until his breath was warm against Remus’s lips and then they were kissing.

Sirius had soft lips, but a firm grasp, he held Remus by the back of the neck. He kissed long and slow, too slow, but deep. It sent Remus’s head spinning in a manner that had nothing to do with overindulgence in spirits. He sat up to further lessen the already short distance between them. One hand found the delicious curve of Sirius’s waist while the other pressed into the small of the other man’s back.

Remus was thinking, ‘Or this. Maybe talking is overrated.’ When he heard the unmistakable click of a door being released and - too quickly to react properly - promptly being slammed shut. Sirius bolted up like he’d been electrocuted. He was out of the bed before Remus even had time to process the series of events.

“Nonononononononononononono,” Sirius was muttering, gathering clothing from the floor next to the bed and pulling it on hurriedly. Too hurriedly. His t-shirt was inside out and he’d attempted to put on Remus’s Trousers, which were several inches too long in the leg.

“What -” Remus did not need to finish the question before Sirius was hissing under his breath.

“Molly’s dropped him off? She was supposed to take them to school today.”

Remus listened, with no idea of what was happening. When Sirius threw his trousers at him - having finally figured out that they were not his - he pulled them on quickly and had begun doing the same with his shirt when there was a small rapping sound on the door furthest away.

Sirius flung the door open and squatted down. “Bambi, I’m so sorry, I thought Molly was taking you to school and I was picking you up.”

A small voice said “I forgot my school bag so Ms. Molly made me come home.” Then, before Sirius could speak again, it continued, “Am I in trouble?”

“Trouble? No, no, of course not! Padfoot should have been more cautious, this is my fault, I’m so sorry. Why would you be in trouble?” Sirius asked, bewildered. Remus gave up unbuttoning and pulled his half-done-up dress-shirt over his head and tried to navigate through it quickly without moving from the bed.

“Because him.” Remus popped his head through the proper hole in time to see Sirius turn around to look strangely at him.

He turned back to the source of the small voice, “Wha-”

“Mr. Lupin, am I in trouble?”

Remus froze with one arm still bent strangely trying to fit through the shirt correctly. Sirius’s eyes were wide and he looked between the child and Remus. He moved ever so slightly to the right, so that Remus could finally catch a glimpse of untidy jet-black hair and uncommonly circular glasses around green, almond-shaped eyes. His face heated so quickly he feared for his own safety and his jaw went slack.

“H-Harry, good morning,” He choked out.

Sirius stood up quickly. “What in the h- what is going on?” He demanded.

“I’m sorry I got into that fight, but he was saying bad things about Ron’s clothes first.”

“It’s alright, Harry, you’re not in trouble,” Remus said without really thinking. His ability to comfort a child despite circumstance was one of the things that made him such a well-regarded teacher. “You and I discussed that fight on Friday, remember? And it won’t happen again, so there’s nothing else to it.”

Harry’s small frame lost some of its tension but he still looked cautious.

Sirius was looking from Harry to Remus in astonishment. “What do you - How do you - What is happening?”

“Er, your son is a student of mine,” Remus informed the bewildered man and finished adjusting his shirt more appropriately. Harry looked very confused.

“Godson,” Sirius seemed to say automatically.

“Excuse me?” Remus asked.

“Harry is my godson. His parents- I’m his legal guardian,” Remus nodded in understanding, but he continued, “No, I’m sorry. No, I thought Mr. Lockhart was Harry’s teacher.”

“He was, but Gil is on medical leave right now and I’ve taken the class in his absence.”

“Oh.” Sirius ran a hand through his hair, which feathered out from under his fingers. “Harry, um, go get your bag. I need to finish speaking with Mr. Lupin.”

Harry looked trepidatious, so Remus reiterated, “Not in trouble,” And winked at him. He left, presumably to find his school things, and Sirius shut the door - notably locking it - behind him.

“A student of yours,” Sirius said disbelieving and came to sit on end of the bed.

“You’re Harry’s godfather,” Remus said with much amusement. There was a moment of silence before both men broke into laughter. Which continued for a considerable amount of time. Remus buried his face in his hands and groaned through gales of it. Sirius had to lean on the post of the bed for support.

“That was unexpected,” Sirius admitted, wiping his eyes after a few long moments.

“Terribly,” Remus agreed and took several deep breaths to control himself. He was starting to become lightheaded on top of his already irksome headache.

“Wait, he’s been fighting?” Sirius’s laughter dissipated, but his smile did not completely vanish.

“Oh, nothing to be very worried about. Just him and the Malfoy boy butting heads occasionally. To be fair, he was mocking Harry’s friend’s shoes. Just some verbal jabbing. Nothing physical. I’d - good lord, well I would have called you if it was anything to worry about.” Remus shook his head, trying to reconcile the idea of calling Harry’s guardian to report on his behavior with the image of Sirius moving so beautifully beneath him, making _those noises_ the night before.

“Thank you,” Sirius managed through another fit of laughter.

Another pleasant moment passed before Remus gathered himself enough to crawl over to Sirius, who pressed his forehead to Remus’s shoulder in a curiously natural posture.

“Is this still a good idea, d’you think?” Sirius asked Remus’s collar.

Remus thought for a minute. “Yes. I think if it seems like it is going to be problematic we’re both right-minded enough to curb ourselves. I would never put Harry in jeopardy.”

“Mmm,” Sirius nodded against him.

“Er, so you live in the district, then?” Remus asked, struck by a sudden thought.

Sirius sat up to look him in the eye again. “Yeah, why?”

“Would you mind giving me a ride to work?”


	2. Lesson 2: Remain Professional at All Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month later

The glossy analog clock above the door-frame ticked loudly in the silence. Sirius sat in a chair far too small for him with his arms crossed and one leg shaking up and down with impatience. Every once in a while, Lucius Malfoy made a _tsk_ sound with his tongue from where he stood very still against the far wall next to his wife, Narcissa, who, unnervingly enough, had not made a single audible noise since Sirius had arrived. Augusta Longbottom sat next to him clicking the heel of her boot against the industrial linoleum of the floor.

The walls of the second grade classroom were covered in colorful projects and well-done assignments. The slate at the front of the room had been wiped clean but streaks of chalky-residue remained. In fact the entire room smelled vaguely of stale chalk-dust and tea. Sirius wanted to hate it. It should have been industrial and cold. But even if he would not consciously admit it, the room was somewhat homey. For a primary school classroom anyway.

The door opened and Sirius stood to meet Remus. Who wasn’t Remus tonight, he was Mr. Lupin, Harry’s teacher. Remus smiled at each of them in turn and pulled a child-size chair up to the desk where Sirius sat. After a slight hesitation, Narcissa and Lucius moved to join them. The five adults crowded around the pair of small desks, feeling utterly ridiculous. That was, except for Remus, who looked as if sitting in chairs made for seven-year-olds was a perfectly normal practice for a man of his considerable height.

Sirius looked over at the teacher and had to remind himself of where he was. Remus looked so… So in his own element. He wore a smartly creased pair of khaki trousers and a sensible brown cardigan over a plain dress shirt. He _should not_ have looked so particularly appealing to Sirius. But his sure gate and warm smile melted him.

They had been seeing each other for just over a month. Well, ‘seeing’ was a strong word. They’d had dinner three times total. Remus had his work at the school which basically took over his whole life, and Sirius had a child to raise. Three times they’d been able to break away to steal a quick meal with each other, and every time had been worth it. Between these dates, if one could call them that, they talked constantly. There was never a moment in which they were not in some form of verbal contact. Remus had nearly missed two staff meetings and a friend’s baby shower from conversations gone on too long and after the sixth time, Sirius just accepted that falling asleep on the phone with Remus on the other end of the line was simply a part of life now.

It had been over a week since he’d last seen Remus, and suddenly that seemed like far too long.

“Good evening, Ladies, Gentlemen,” Everyone else greeted him quietly. Sirius just grinned.

“Lupin, the sitter’s charging per hour and it’s double after eight, so can we get on with this?” Augusta asked sharply. Remus just smiled at her.

“Of course. This brief meeting is mostly just an amiable exchange of information. A precaution before the situation becomes an actual problem.” Remus looked at each of them carefully. “As I believe you are all aware, young Mr. Malfoy and young Mr. Potter are two very spirited children that, well, do not always see eye to eye, per se. And Mr. Longbottom just has a tendency to become caught in the middle. Earlier this week, Draco took an object of Neville’s possession, a ball, without asking permission and, when he declined to return it, Harry saw fit to take matters into his own hands and chase Draco around the schoolyard until it was returned to its rightful owner. This is normal behavior for these boys, but at this point it is beginning to cut into class time.”

“And am I to assume you dealt with this in the appropriate manner?” Narcissa vocalized for the first time that evening.

“Yes, of course,” Remus assured her. “All three boys have had a very similar conversation with me to the one we are having now.”

“Beg pardon,” Lucius interrupted, “But who exactly is being accused here?”

“No one is being accused, Mr. Malfoy -”

“No one? Because bringing Draco home from school the other day he seemed frightened. When asked, he admitted that a boy had chased him around the playground, _threatening_ him.” Lucius was not in the mood for preamble tonight, apparently.

“Threatening?” Augusta seemed shocked by that, though what this even had to do with the silly old woman, Sirius had no idea.

“I don’t remember anything about ‘threatening’,” Sirius growled. “It sounds to me like your son was being a prat and my godson was fending him off.”

“Well, maybe _your charge_ does not share so openly with you, Black, but I assure you, Draco keeps nothing from us,” Lucius sniffed.

“My ‘ _charge_ ’?” Sirius made a motion to stand but was rooted by the steadying ankle that found his under the small desk. He snapped his jaw shut instead, fixated on the warmth of Remus’s leg. Sirius noted with interest that Narcissa had laid a soft but steady hand on top of her husband’s on his lap in a similar demonstration of solidarity.

“This would be the first I am hearing of a threat, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Draco had ample time to tell his side of the story when I spoke to the children and he made no such accusation then. I do not claim omniscience, but I think you’ll find I do know my students. It would surprise me greatly if I were to learn that Harry, while he may be both a restless soul and a very vocal boy, made a ‘threat’ against a fellow student of any kind. Let us remember, please, that these are children, yes?”

Lucius set his jaw austerely and continued to glare, but said nothing else.

“The point being,” Remus’s ankle was moving against Sirius’s. Slowly but definitely. Sirius’s eyebrows crept upwards. “That all three of these boys are good children. But I believe both Harry and Draco could use some guidance at this time. I am doing what I can on my end, I just ask that you be aware and proactive on your’s.”

“Will that be all, Mr. Lupin?” Narcissa asked, her expression somewhat bored.

Remus looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he nodded, “I believe that is all for this evening. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I just wanted to make sure we were all in communication on the subject.”

The Malfoys excused themselves courteously and retreated out of the door, followed shortly thereafter by Mrs. Longbottom, who at least smiled kindly at Sirius before she left.

Remus moved away as the others fled, striding over to his desk to tidy some papers. Sirius stood and stretched his legs, which were uncomfortably stiff after sitting in the undersized chair. “So,” he said after a moment, walking over to the other side of Remus’s desk, “Am I in trouble, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus looked up and quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Sirius asked, a little surprised.

“What does Harry know about the Malfoys?” Remus asked.

Sirius was beginning to become concerned. “What does he know about them? Not too much, I think. He knows Narcissa is my cousin -”

“Narcissa Malfoy is your cousin?” Remus asked, putting the papers down finally, though his desk was still a cluttered mess.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius shrugged. “She was Narcissa Black until I was almost twenty. I’m what you might call estranged from the family, if you’ll recall.”

“That explains a lot,” Remus sighed and stepped out from behind his desk to join Sirius on the other side.

“But I try to keep my opinions to myself where she’s concerned in front of Harry at least. You don’t think he’s getting negativity from me, do you?” Sirius asked, a crease in his brow.

“No, no I do not. But I do think it is possible that the Malfoys are not being quite as discrete in their judgments as you are trying to be,” Remus explained.

Sirius rolled his eyes grandly. “Of course. I’ve only worked my arse off making sure that boy isn’t affected by my own sordid past, why shouldn’t the Malfoy boy chuck that right out for me?”

Remus gave a weak smile and put a hand on Sirius’s waist, a gesture far to familiar to be considered appropriate for a parent/teacher meeting. “Harry is a good child and a good student. He knows the difference between right and wrong. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s just - he takes bait easily and Draco knows how to goad him. He’s too quick to action for even me sometimes.”

Sirius nodded in understanding at that. His godson did not have what one might call a temper, but he was certainly quick to rectify what he saw as injustices. Remus’s other hand came up to the other side of his waist. He pushed lightly until Sirius’s thighs were pressed against the desk. Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’s neck for balance.

“You are doing just fine with him,” Remus reassured him, bending forward to kiss Sirius on the forehead. Then the sharp bone of his cheek; his ear; the hook of his jaw.

“Remus,” It was probably supposed to come out as a warning, but the name left Sirius’s lips with far too much breath behind it.

“Hmmm?” Remus responded wordlessly, his lips too busy pressing against Sirius’s throat to form vernacular.

“Did you call this meeting just to get me here?” Sirius managed to ask, somehow, which was a miracle as his head had fogged over.

Remus stilled and pulled back. His eyes were quite earnest, almost stern. “Are you asking if I called a parent/teacher conference that included three of the most intimidating parental figures in my class just to get my boyfriend away for the evening?”

Sirius’s eyebrows shot up. He took advantage of the small space between their bodies to fold his arms across his chest and smile smugly up at Remus. “Your what, now?”

“My-” Remus’s eyes widened at the realization of the term that had slipped from his mouth. “Oh, hell. I am sorry. I did not - I _have_ not - I would not presume something like that. I would talk to you. It slipped, I did not…” He rubbed the back of his neck looking for all the world as uncomfortable as if he’d been asked to speak naked in front of the queen.

“And?” Sirius asked blankly.

“And what?”

“And is there something you’d like to ‘talk to me’ about?”

“Oh, uh.” Sirius enjoyed this too much. Over the phone, Remus was well-spoken and sharp as a tack. That was why he relished when they were face-to-face and all Sirius had to do was smirk the right way and Remus was at a loss for words.

So smirk he did. Then he leaned up and pecked Remus on his bottom lip. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

Sirius nodded. It was Remus’s turn to smile. He pressed the length of his body up against Sirius’s once again and tucked both arms around his middle, drawing him in for a much deeper kiss.

This one put them both out of sorts. A moment later they both pulled away to breathe, considerably disoriented by the experience. Sirius made a little hop backwards and seated himself on the teacher’s desk.

“You never answered the question,” he pointed out. “Did you set this up as a ploy to get me all to yourself?”

Remus heaved an exasperated sigh, but his smile was fond. “Of course not. But I am not complaining about it as a side-effect. More of a perk, really.”

Sirius sprawled out more comfortably on the desk like it was his own.

“You do know what this means, don’t you?” Remus asked, falling into the space between Sirius’s legs.

“What?” Sirius asked, squeezing Remus’s bony hips between his knees.

“We’ll have to tell him at some point. Harry. Gil won’t be back, so he’s stuck with me for a teacher until the end of the year, which is a long way off at this point. If we’re really doing this, we’ll have to clue him in.”

Sirius contemplated. “And this won’t get you into trouble?”

Remus shook his head. “Lockhart won’t be back this year, but he is still Harry’s official instructor. Not me. Technically, I turn grades into him, so since I do not, again, _technically_ give Harry a grade, there is no conflict of interest.”

Sirius looked at him with just a bit of disbelief. “That sounds like it’s skirting right on the edge of following the rules.”

Remus shrugged. “I am perfectly within bounds.”

Sirius laughed and narrowed his eyes. “I do believe you actually like being just a little mischievous, don’t you?”

Remus seemed to have no answer to that. No reasonable one at least. Instead, by way of response, he closed the distance between them and kissed Sirius properly.


	3. Lesson 3: Keep Your Distance

“Two book reports this month. TWO! One on the book we’re reading as a class, and one on a book of my choosing. How can I be expected to finish two book reportson top ofall of my regular work? Moony, how is this legal?”

Remus raised his eyebrows at the distraught ten year old in front of him. “I am not sure this is really a question of legality, Harry. If you are truly feeling overworked, we can take it up with the teacher or we can speak to the dean. But first, let me ask you this: Are you upset about the amount of work your teachers have assigned you, or is Ron upset about the amount of work teachers have assigned you and you’ve listened to his abuse of the subject so many times it’s become rhetoric?”

Harry looked across the dinner table at Remus with determined eyes, but did not open his mouth to negate the accusation. Sirius, who had previously been clearing the table, looked between them like he was following a tennis match.

“Your normal work makes for about an hour per evening, would you not say?” Remus asked.

Harry nodded.

“So if you read fifteen minutes of each book per night, when do you think you’ll be done?”

Harry furrowed his brow and both older men could see the gears working in his brain. “Maybe ten days?”

“Ten days sounds reasonable. Then once you are finished with the books, if you spend those same fifteen minutes working on each report, does that sound too difficult? Because I think you’ll find you’ll be done earlier than you imagine.” Remus gave a small, encouraging smile.

Harry let out a breath and nodded. “I can do it.”

“Better. Much, much better,” Remus smiled fully at him now, winning himself a look of relief in turn.

Harry started up from the table, taking his plate with him. Sirius continued clearing the leftovers. Remus gathered his own mess and joined them both in the kitchen to settle himself at the sink to start washing the dishes. Remus did not mind dishes. Washing in the sink in front of the picture window in Sirius’s kitchen was almost meditative for him.

“Moony, can you help me with my division packet? It’s to be handed in by the end of the week.” Harry dropped his dish into the basin.

“Yes, tomorrow evening we’ll sit and work through it together,” Remus assured him. “I think I need to head home for now. Papers to grade. I have my own homework to finish.”

“Bring it in and I’ll see if I can’t help you out at least a little,” Sirius offered. Harry looked utterly doubtful but retreated to his room to collect his work. He turned to Remus and stood up on his toes to lay a chaste kiss on his cheek. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Thinking about what, Love?” Remus asked, scowering the pan Sirius had used earlier.

“About you. And the going home thing.” Sirius said it with too much nonchalance. It was suspicious.

It clicked, and Remus understood what Sirius must have been talking about. He eyed him carefully. “Sirius, we’ve talked about this. Unless you’re suddenly prepared for some difficult conversations, I’m not spending the night with Harry here.” Three years into their relationship, Remus and Sirius were closer to each other than anyone had ever been. The only obstacle was the infrequency with which they were allotted physical time together. Every opportunity was immediately taken. Anytime Harry stayed with either Ron or Hermione, any night the school was having an overnight function, that one time Harry had even stayed with his aunt and uncle (but everyone seriously doubted that was ever going to happen again) Remus was in Sirius’s bed in less time than it took to inform him that they had the house to themselves. But he refused to stay over on nights in which Harry was home. This made for somewhere between three and five opportunities per month. ste kiss on his cheek. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Thinking about what, Love?” Remus asked, scowering the pan Sirius had used earlier.

“About you. And the going home thing.” Sirius said it with too much nonchalance. It was suspicious.

It clicked, and Remus understood what Sirius must have been talking about. He eyed him carefully. “Sirius, we have talked about this. Unless you’re suddenly prepared for some difficult conversations, I’m not spending the night with Harry here.” Three years into their relationship, Remus and Sirius were closer to each other than anyone had ever been. The only obstacle was the infrequency with which they were allotted physical time together. Every opportunity was immediately taken. Anytime Harry stayed with either Ron or Hermione, any night the school was having an overnight function, that one time Harry had even stayed with his aunt and uncle (but everyone seriously doubted that was ever going to happen again) Remus was in Sirius’s bed in less time than it took to inform him that they had the house to themselves. But he refused to stay over on nights in which Harry was home. This made for somewhere between three and five opportunities per month.

“No, no we haven’t talked about this.” Sirius reached over and shut the tap off, which caused Remus a momentary annoyance, but he quickly realized that it meant that Sirius wanted to talk. He dried his hands on a dishrag and turned to face Sirius fully.

“What is ‘this’, exactly?” He asked.

“I’m just suggesting that maybe you grade papers here from now on. And instead of going back to your flat after, maybe you could just… stay.” Sirius shrugged, again with too much carelessness to be believable.

“Sirius -”

“No, I don’t mean you staying over,” Sirius attempted to clarify. “I mean - I mean maybe you grade papers here and then you never go back to your flat again. Maybe you grade papers here and you stop paying rent on your flat. Maybe you bring your escritoire from your place and we could put it in my room for paper-grading purposes, only then it wouldn’t be my room anymore. It would be our room.”

Remus blinked at him. “Our room?”

“Yes, our room. And this could be our place. And these could be our dishes. And that could be our stove.” Sirius gestured across the kitchen while he spoke.

Meanwhile, Remus was just trying to hear his own thoughts over the pounding of his heart. “Sirius are you -”

“I want you to move in with me, Remus. With us. It’s not like you’re not a daily fixture here already. Harry sees you as as much of an uncle as he does me already. And I can’t stand when you leave every single night. There’s this awful ten minutes where once you’ve left it doesn’t feel like you’ve left, instead it just feels quiet and lonely and like you should be there but you’re not. It feels wrong.”

Remus did his best to keep up with Sirius, who was talking faster the longer they stood. “And you want to make it right?”

Sirius nodded, a hint of smile crinkling his eyes. “Please, Remus? Move in?”

Remus took a moment to assess himself. He knew he should take time to think about this thoroughly and logically, but Sirius’s eyes were big and pleading like a puppy’s. And he wanted more than anything to spend his life with that man. And in that moment he could not come up with a single argument against the idea.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Remus laughed. “Did you think I would say no?”

Sirius’s ears were pink. “A little, yeah.”

Without bothering to roll his sleeves down, Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and pulled him in close. “Are you sure, Love?”

“Of course,” Sirius said quickly, “Of course I’m sure!”

“Then, yes.” Remus kissed him. Soft and full of love and entirely encompassing.

“Eww,” Harry groaned, returning to the kitchen with his school bag. “Gross.”

The two men smiled into each other’s lips and Sirius made a show of planting one last noisy, wet kiss on Remus’s lips, much to Harry’s chagrin. “You’ll think differently in a few years, don’t worry.” He assured his godson.

“I will not. Kisses are gross,” Harry scoffed.

Remus laughed as Sirius visibly warred with himself over whether to argue the point or not. Reason seemed to win out eventually and he took just a half-step away from Remus.

“So?” Harry asked once his godfather was done being ‘gross’. “Did you ask him?”

Remus’s head whipped around to Sirius, who responded, “Yes, and he’s said ‘yes’, of course.”

“Told you you were worried over nothing,” Harry’s smile was almost too big for his face.

“You were right. You always are. How I’m going to stomach living with two people who are simply always correct is beyond me,” Sirius stage-sighed.

“You’ll manage,” Remus said fondly.

Shortly thereafter, Remus did leave for the night. He returned to grade papers in his flat alone, one last time. He was moved in before the end of that month.


End file.
